


Love me tenderly

by CursedHoneyB



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu (love), Boys In Love, Cute Ending, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Minor spoilers for anime onlys, So minor they might not be there, They're cute, but like, they hold hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:02:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CursedHoneyB/pseuds/CursedHoneyB
Summary: He's known this man all his life, has been there for him no matter how annoying he might be sometimes. He has seen him at his lowest, at his brightest, at his best. Aran knows Atsumu, and yet.He would've never thought he'd love so quietly.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Ojiro Aran
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	Love me tenderly

**Author's Note:**

> Atsumu (love)  
> That's literally the only reason this fic is a thing haha I went through a brainrot and a quote bot gave me the idea, but the actual quote has absolutely nothing to do with this fic. I just got completely off track, and this... well, I hope people enjoy it!  
> That's all I have to say!

"If I close my eyes now, would ya leave me hangin'?"

Miya Atsumu is not joking. 

This is his last day at Inarizaki, and he's standing behind the gymnasium instead of sharing some last meaningless memories with his classmate. Aran is trapped here in front of Miya Atsumu, a question hanging between them. 

He's confused, at best. 

There's a 'no' on the tip of his tongue that's refusing to come out. 

Atsumu grins. "What is it, Aran-kun? Havin' a hard time making a decision?" He taunts, because that's what he does best. But the glint in his eyes is unmistakable, even to Aran. He's hoping he'd say yes. He's really hoping to get a kiss out of Aran before they part ways.

"I wouldn't say that," he lies. 

"Ya just hafta say yes or no." He's starting to sound impatient, a bit agitated even. This Atsumu reminds him a bit more of the one he knows. The one with no sparkle in his eyes, the one that has never even returned the hugs Aran gave him after a good game. 

"Do I really have an option?" He tries to sound playful, staring down at Atsumu with a half smile on his lips.  _ 'What do you want?,'  _ he doesn't ask, still trying to comprehend such a sudden turn of events. 

Why is Atsumu so adamant in making him take his first kiss? He doesn't know, doesn't seem to be able to figure it out either. He'd expect it from, say, Suna, maybe. Though the one being asked about first kisses would have been Kita, if that were the case. 

Atsumu, though… 

"Aran-kun~" he whines, already fed up. He has his hands behind his back, having taken a step forward already.  _ Kiss me! _ his eyes say,  _ now! _

There's no real option, then, so Aran does. 

Aran kisses Atsumu, sees his long eyelashes flutter before he closes his eyes too. He puts a hand on Atsumu's cheek, and tilts his head to the side to make their mouths fit better against each other. 

(There  _ was  _ an option, but Aran chose to ignore it the moment he looked into Atsumu's eager eyes.)

Time goes by slowly, losing speed whenever Atsumu tries and fails to find his own rhythm into the kiss. Aran feels his lips moving, and he allows him to fumble for a bit, to see if the great, talented Miya Atsumu might be a natural or a hard-worker. 

It might be wrong to find this amusing, to toy with Atsumu the same way he does with his spikers whenever he's on court. Aran's not all that great of a man, though, so he doesn't stop. 

The instinct you need to kiss might not be the one you need to be a volleyball monster in the making, but Aran thinks there's hope for Atsumu. (Not like he knows all that much, but he likes it when he can hold at least one thing over this little jerk's head, and he's not above using  _ this _ as some sort of teasing material for when they're older, and maybe even a bit wiser.) 

For now, though, he shows Atsumu a tiny bit of what he knows. 

There are no sparks when the kiss is over. No newfound feelings, no new light thrown over their friendship. 

Aran takes a good look at Atsumu, at his searching gaze and hopeful frown. But then Atsumu's shoulder slump, and the set of his mouth turns slightly sour. He's displeased, and Aran wants to ask  _ why _ but doesn't. 

"What do ya think?" Atsumu asks instead.

Aran doesn't get it. "What do ya mean?" 

So Atsumu smiles, throws a tiny 'nothing' his way, and slaps him on the arm. "Ya better come watch our games, Aran-kun!" 

The brightness in Atsumu's eyes seems to dull a little, but Aran stops at his petulant words first, and forgets to take a better look later. 

They don't talk about it, and Atsumu tries to act as if it never happened. But Aran remembers. 

  
  


*

  
  


It has to be a joke. Right? 

"Atsumu," he says, heaving a sigh in the same breath. "You can't be serious."

He can't, but at the same time Aran knows Atsumu wouldn't go this far just for kicks and giggles. So what is actually happening? Why is he getting confessed to on a graduation day that it's not even his own? 

He should have known– the moment Atsumu asked him to come with him, the moment the gymnasium came into view.  _ He should have known. _ But then again, Atsumu has never, ever given him any hints. (Just the spark in his eyes; the kiss; the slump of his shoulders, his hands as they let Aran go a second too late;  _ the kiss _ .) 

"Aran-kun," he says, but doesn't repeat himself. There's no need, Aran's brain is still going around his early words, over and over. 

( _ I like ya,  _ Atsumu said, reaching out and taking a hold of his hoodie the moment Aran came into grabbing range.  _ I want to date ya.  _ He was so serious, so intense. 

For a second, Aran's breath was stolen away.) 

He wishes Atsumu would just say it again, or confess that it's just a joke. A bet. Another stupid thing to put on top of the other stupid things he has done in the past. But he sees the spark, the hope, the determination to get hurt or go home, and maybe do something embarrassing out of happiness. 

Aran's still having a hard time trying to see the love Atsumu claims he feels. He keeps coming back empty handed.

It's not a good sign. 

Silence is never a good sign. 

"I–" but he falters. 

Atsumu snorts. 

He's almost expecting him to laugh it off and say  _ 'gotcha, Aran-kun!'  _ or something along those lines. He's ready to laugh with him, and maybe force him into a chokehold later–to assert dominance–. 

Atsumu snorts, fists the hand that is not holding onto Aran. "It's not a joke," he says, half-lidded eyes boring holes into his own. His gaze burns him from inside out, almost leaves him breathless.

This Atsumu, Aran knows him too well. 

Frightening, freakly intense, unafraid of taking a leap of faith if he deems the rewards of his success far greater than the consequences of staying put on safer grounds. 

He's jumping into the void here– 

"Okay."

–but Aran is not there to catch him. 

_ What do you want me to do about it?  _ it's a question Aran doesn't ask, but Atsumu gets it. It's all he can offer right now, but it's not enough. 

Atsumu is hoping for something, his eyes dead set on it(on him). 

Aran knows he won't give up. How should he feel about it? 

  
  


*

  
  


They grow up, leave high school behind, become professional volleyball players. 

Two teams, two cities. One sport, plenty of times to sneak here and there to say hi, maybe catch up, maybe go out and drink and bug their teammates with memories and references no one but themselves understand. 

Atsumu talks a lot; about the MSBY Black Jackals, about Bokuto Koutarou's antics, about Sakusa Kiyoomi's nasty attitude and freaky wrists, then he starts to downright swoon over Hinata Shoyo when he comes back from Brazil. 

All in all, it's funny, it's warm, kinda new, kinda familiar. Aran likes it when they find the same hole in their equally tight schedules to meet up and have a good time. He enjoys the back and forth, the bad jokes and snide remarks. 

Atsumu has always been a fun guy to be around, and he still has that same brightness in his eyes; a bit sharper around the edges, a lot more guarded than when he was a teenage boy. But the sparkle is still alive. 

Aran wonders. 

It's the same one from all these years ago, or is Atsumu just happier? 

He wants to ask, but maybe Atsumu has been trying to move on. Maybe he's just imagining things. 

Maybe he's getting confused himself. 

It's not common, and Aran doesn't like it when uncertainty worms its way into his brain. This friendship, this bond– he has had it for the longest time. Trying to change it now… it could be a mistake. But he thinks about it. 

He actually thinks back to when he was eighteen and a snot-nosed little brat walked up to him and asked for a kiss. 

He thinks that if Atsumu were to do the same thing again– 

(There's a lapse of two week right here, where Aran slowly loses his mind over what ifs featuring a pair of thin lips, an offending tongue, some witty remarks and big, calloused hands. 

There's another week right after the other two, where he tries not to think about any of it, filling the void of these recently discovered thoughts with  _ 'it's Atsumu, for fuck's sake' _ , and  _ 'I am not developing a crush on Atsumu' _ , and  _ 'Kita is never going to let me live this down' _ among the many, many others that sounded quiet similar to the ones quoted above.) 

By the fourth week of silent suffering, Atsumu is in town and he's asking to meet up. 

Because Aran has no sense of self-preservation(and because he's kind of an idiot but would never, ever admit it), he sets a time and a place. 

There's a reason to do this, a big one. The Olympics are right around the corner, and for the first time in their careers– the both of them made the cut. 

It's a big reason and a big excuse. He mumbles something that sounds like words of congratulations when he gets carried away and takes Atsumu into a tight hug. There's a second of hesitancy before he feels a hand patting his back and the other sneaking around his waist, not knowing all too well where it should rest. 

He laughs, slaps Atsumu on the back and lets go. 

  
  


*

If someone were to ask: how did he end up developing feelings for Miya Atsumu of all people? He'd say he doesn't know. 

It would be a lie, of course, because he didn't spend all that time overthinking not to come up with a good, solid answer. 

He knows how it started, at the very least. That first kiss surely set things into motion, then the confession, the look in Atsumu's eyes. That damn sparkle he never managed to forget. 

As it turns out, he doesn't manage to forget Atsumu's vibrant smile glowing under the golden light of success, either.

*

  
  


It's when he gets to hit Atsumu's tosses again, after almost ten whole years of playing for different teams, that he decides to make something out of the unspoken and unresolved feelings between them. 

(There's no certainty about what's going on inside Atsumu's thick skull, but Aran has seen the look in his eyes; bright, hopeful, searching. Not the same, but not completely different either.)

The ball finds his hand, and Aran thinks he might've gone insane for a whole second because he feels–  _ something _ . It fills his chest from inside out, making him dizzy with its intensity. He feels…  _ it _ – Atsumu's love. 

Aran keeps it to himself for a little while, tries to make sense out of it and fails. 

"Well, Aran-kun? What do ya think?" Atsumu asks him, a knowing smile on his face. 

"What are ya looking so smug for, huh?" He retorts, trying and failing to put his heart to rest. Its beating thumps against his ribcage, making it hard for him not to lose his breath. 

There's nothing special about a gymnasium full of athletes, but Aran finds comfort in the distant sound of volleys being smashed against the floor. It puts his mind to rest, clear his head of unnecessary thoughts.

When Aran looks at Atsumu, he sees his eyes burning. 

"What do ya think, Aran-kun?" He asks, not taking the bait when he might have done so in the past. He really, really wants to know, going as far as taking a step towards Aran, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

"I thought ya were confused, at first." Aran says, inspecting Atsumu's face to see if it changes but it doesn't. So he already knew that. "But I felt it, today." 

Atsumu's mouth forms a small 'o', his eyes widening just a fraction. He holds his breath, and finally reaches out for Aran to take his hands in his own, fingers interlacing with one another. 

It's cheesy, and they might make fun of each other for it later but right at that moment, it felt like the right thing to do. 

They keep silent for a while. 

Atsumu looks at the floor between them and tries very hard to take deep, steady breaths. He's smiling, and Aran is, too, but it feels different. 

"Aran-kun," he says, letting out a breathy laugh. He's not about to cry, because Atsumu rarely does so, but he might be close. He might do it, just this once. He takes a shuddering breath, laughs again, bites his lips and throws himself into Aran's arms. 

He doesn't cry, but he's close, oh, so close. 

"Atsumu," Aran mumbles, dumbfounded. 

He's known this man all his life, has been there for him no matter how annoying he might be sometimes. He has seen him at his lowest, at his brightest, at his best. Aran knows Atsumu, and yet. 

He would've never thought he'd love so quietly. 

The love Atsumu feels is hard to see, and even harder to find when you don't know where to look at. He doesn't do crazy acts of love, he didn't even go about it the conventional way. 

Atsumu loved him in silence, keeping his feelings close to his heart, basking on them no matter how painful it turned sometimes. 

Aran feels it now, simmering beneath his skin, burning brighter and brighter every day. 

Atsumu hugs him as tight as he can, laughing softly on his shoulder. He whispers his name, not saying the words but not failing at making him understand. Aran sees it now, feels it, and yearns to reciprocate. 

He wants to love Atsumu too, teach him that it doesn't have to be painful. He wants to see if he'd be willing to love him loud, clear and bright. Aran wants him to see that he's going to be there to make this a two ways road. That it already is. 

"I think it's beautiful," Aran says at last, much later when Atsumu has finally calmed down. 

He didn't cry, in the end. But he might do it, someday. He might learn to let it all out, he might learn to let go without losing his hold on his feelings. If he's allowed, Aran would like to be there to see it all happen. 

But for now, he can do just one thing for Atsumu. And this time, when he whispers– "I love you too." –in his ear, Aran knows it's enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Also! If u liked it please consider rting/qrting this [tweet](https://mobile.twitter.com/BadgerH86/status/1320878171391143936) so maybe more people can see it! 
> 
> Thank u for reading!


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